It was the summer of 1969. I had graduated from Reynoldsburg High and was working with Bruce & Eric for Stark Van Lines. It was a good summer job.
I knew that in September I would be entering Miami University in Oxford Ohio, on a Navy ROTC scholarship, and that meant that I would have most of my education paid for, and that I would owe the Navy the next four years of my life after college, and that I had to keep my hair cut short and wear a navy midshipman uniform at least once a week, plus be on active duty most of the summer.
It was a package deal, and one that I pursued and competed for. Then on the other side of me was this desire to experience "freedom", and "do what I liked". I really didn't want to cut my hair, nor wear a uniform. I wanted to learn at university, while having some, a lot of , fun.
In August, I heard of this concert that was happening in upstate New York. We were very busy with work, so going was not even a consideration. Yet we were all aware of the music. As it ended yesterday 40 years ago, we were aware of a cultural significance.
It took a few months for the film crew to put together the movie and the album that really got everybody in touch with the event. We saw the huge (400,000 plus) crowd, the brotherhood that reigned throughout the event, the shared food, drinks, and drugs, the naked men and women bathing in the ponds, others making love in the grass, the rain storm, the mud mess, and finally the Monday morning that Jimi Hendrix played his set to the remains of the crowd (40,000 people). The end of the movie displayed the huge mess that remained that the concert workers were tasked with cleaning up.
It was a beautiful event. People cooperated and cared for each other. They shared. They related. They belonged. There was a heavy sense of community. We all related to what we saw on the screen. We loved the music. We identified to many of the values. We realized that there was something in human interaction that was missing from our "normal" lives and we wanted it.
But by this time of the movie's release, other events had occurred which put a damper on the whole feeling that if we just let it, mankind, with enough music, drink, and drugs, and with all restraints throw off regarding sex, and with an inherent care for that guy next to us, that we would indeed be able to make our lives different, and that we would not have to succumb to dirty politics, greedy business, warfare, and racial tensions.
It was December at the Altamont concert in San Francisco where a guy named Meredith pulled a gun, threatening to "shoot Jagger" and was killed by the Hell's Angel "security team". This was after Mick Jagger of the Rolling Stones sang "Sympathy for the Devil" & "Under My Thumb". Mary Balin of the Jefferson Airplane and some attendees had been also beaten by the Angels as well. The Rolling Stones made a movie of this concert which they called "Gimme Shelter". The contrast between the scene at Woodstock and Altamont was obvious to all.
We all wanted what happened at Woodstock, but we were having "Altamont" experiences as we went through the next years. Moments of Peace, Love, and Care were interrupted by instances of tension, greed, and selfish behavior. It was a conundrum: We wanted the best of what Humanity had to offer, yet were often experiencing the worst.
The following spring, there were huge demonstrations over the American invasion of Cambodia into the sanctuaries where the Viet Cong were hiding. We had a "civil disturbance" at Miami University when a small group of protesters took over the Navy ROTC building. We NROTC members went there to see what was happening, and during the next hours a band arrived, people began dancing, and finally the Vice President of the university arrived and announced that we would all have to leave or be "peremptorily suspended". We all wondered what that meant, but we all evacuated the building except for 187 hard core who sat down and locked arms.
The Butler County sheriffs arrived dressed in their new riot control gear, with dogs, as well as the Ohio Highway Patrol. I was standing along the side of the back parking lot, watching the police haul out the protesters one-by-one, loading them in a van and carting them off to jail. It was when one of the van backed over the curb and was momentarily stuck that the guy next to me took out his pocket knife, and jammed it in the tire, popping it!
All hell broke loose, as the cops deployed in a line, and with firing tear gas canisters at us point blank, drove us into the courtyard of Culler Hall across the street. All the doors were locked, as it was not after 9pm. We were trapped, and the gas was not fun. We ROTC guys were getting pissed, as these cops bore down on us. Suddenly I felt someone grab the back of my collar and yank me up into a suddenly opened window. it was Cleveland Dickerson, the star halfback on the football team. He helped my roommates Eric and Bruce up, and we ran out the north side of the building, into another hail of tear gas canisters. Now we were really pissed, and began carefully picking them up and flinging them in the direction of the cops. They retreated, but formed up and charged again. This back-and-forth went on until after midnight.
Oh the dogs. In the melee, they were let loose. Students coming back from a night uptown drinking 3.2% beer (you have to drink a lot) who had no idea of what was happening at the NROTC building were suddenly attacked by dogs appearing out of nowhere!
The next day we got the word that four students were killed at Kent State, a school in our athletic conference. The situation had gotten worse. School was suspended, and we all went home for a few weeks.
Indeed, as Don McClean sang in th esong "American Pie", the "music had died".
In June of '73 I graduated and entered the Navy, finishing Flight School in April of '75. It was during this time that we were all glued to the tube watching the Watergate scandal, and eventually the historical even of a sitting president resigning rather than face impeachment. More sour music.
When I joined my first fleet squadron the following June, I felt the demoralization of my fellow aviators who had tried their best to fight the Vietnam war with both hands tied behind their back. Many of their friends had died for dubious reasons. Two of my bombadier/navigators were Joe Mobley and George Coker, who together spend 12 year as POW's in North Vietnam prisons. They were the lucky ones. Many died in the prisions. My former squadron mate and instructor in the A-6 Steve Coonts has written a few books since then. One that describes this scene best is "Fligth of The Intruder" that was turned into a movie with Danny Glover and Wilam Defoe. More sour music.....
I got out of the Navy in '79 and moved to Vail Colorado for some serious skiing. It was a self-centerd life. Many of my friends were starting to make some serious money. Indeed it seemed that the idealism of the "Woodstock" generation had turned to the American dream of materialism, comfort, and "me". What happened?
In '81 I moved to Maui to help my friend Elvis' ice cream business in Lahaina, and in the process, was taken into a community. It all started when my cousin Kean (a former pakalolo grower in Hana) invited me to come over to watch a football game. I became friends that day with his neighbor Craig. Over the next weeks, I met more of his friends, and began sharing many meals with them. Eventually I went to their church, Hope Chapel, which was meeting in a school cafeteria. I discovered that the next door neighbor was the pastor. That day he made a remarkable statement: "Having a personal relationship with Jesus is the most important thing that you can have in this life." I had never considered that.
More and more i found myself hanging out with Kean, Craig, and other new friends who attended their church. I was amazed at people who appeared to be having fun, without the drugs & intoxication. I found acceptance, love and care from these guys, who barely knew me. I was still smoking pot, and doing things to satisfy me, but was paying attention to what was going on.
It doesn't cost you anything to pay attention.
I began to read the Bible, and realized that it was not the mythology that I thought it was, but rather a good work of history. Eventually I agreed with what Jesus said about Himself, and decided one day to commit my life to Him.
As I read the Bible, I was struck by a passage from the second chapter of Acts. This is the story of the birth of the churh on the Day of Pentecost. The author Luke describes well the "community" of these followers of Jesus:
43 A deep sense of awe came over them all, and the apostles performed many miraculous signs and wonders. 44 And all the believers met together constantly and shared everything they had. 45 They sold their possessions and shared the proceeds with those in need. 46 They worshiped together at the Temple each day, met in homes for the Lord’s Supper, and shared their meals with great joy and generosity—47 all the while praising God and enjoying the goodwill of all the people. And each day the Lord added to their group those who were being saved. " Acts 2:41-47
These guys were hanging together, singing and sharing music, taking their meals together, sharing with each other, selling possessions to care for each other, and loving God and each other in very practical ways.
These were my ideals of the "Woodstock Generation".
I wanted to live this life that I saw in the Woodstock movie, but often found myself living the self-centeredness of the Gimme Shelter movie.
It was my basic human nature that desired the best, but often lived the worst.
The BIble describes this as the conflict between the "Old" human nature, affected by our basic inherent "sin", and the "New" divine nature that God is creating in us- one that is "others-centered" rather than "self-centered".
What made the difference? It was the Spirit of God moving in us, changing us to be more like Jesus, and less like Maik, or Kean, or Craig.
I have found my life since then one of living "in community". It is a caring community. We share things with each other; we help each other; we encourage each other; and we know it is only because of God's power that we are able to walk out life in this manner.
I watched the VH1 special last night on the 40th Anniversary of Woodstock, and the original participants reflecting on the event, and the significance. They all look like me now: Still recognizable, but rounder, and grayer; Still looking for the best, & still willing to have a good time. But I saw that most had not discovered the element which makes the "Woodstock" philosophy of life really possible.
Craig was correct that first day that I visited Hope Chapel in Kihei Maui in October of '81.
A personal relationshipwith Jesus is the element that makes living with and for others possible. He is the one who brought the ideal of the brotherhood of mankind. It is only through Him that we are able to live it out.
I am living the Woodstock dream. Amazingly without drugs, married and faithful to one beautiful woman, caring for four growing children, and working in a project in Central America serving Miskito Indians.
I have often seen old friends who seem very surprised when they hear what I do. They know the old me. They wonder what had made the "new" me.
Having a personal relationship with Jesus is the most important thing that you can have in this life.
By the way: I often thought that Jimi's version of the Star Spangled Banner was a protest to the war in Vietnam and very "anti-american". Only a few years ago I discovered that Jimi Hendrix had been a member of the 82 Airborne Division, which is an elite special force in our Army that you have to volunteer for. He played guitar while in the Army, and I have concluded that he indeed liked the song, and what it stood for. His version was an incredible work of art and expression. You "see" the rockets red glare and hear the bombs bursting in air! Bravo to a true artist and patriot!
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